Last night I fell asleep with my computer on my lap. I was in the midst of writing this blog. I woke, bleary-eyed, sometime after 10:30 p.m. and struggled to put the last few sentences together. I had no idea when I hit the “publish” button whether or not what I had written had made any sense. I haven’t gone back to read it to see if it did, but I did notice that I didn’t finish the title. It said, “Lessons in Gratitude Day 938–A Little.” A little what? I have no idea. I was writing about the lunar eclipse that occurred–gees was it only yesterday morning? It feels like days ago, a dim memory. Anyway, I have no idea what “little” thing I was referring to, but I did go back and delete that part of the title. Hopefully the dozen or so people who read last night didn’t notice the half-formed title or won’t notice it’s disappearance.
Today has been an emotional mixed bag. I recognize that this simply is going to be what it is. Mama said there’ll be days like this, I reminded myself as I slogged through the day. I am learning to be patient with myself during these times. Is it my imagination or do people seem to be more tired, out of sorts, weary? There seems to be a general vibe among many of the people I interact with that points to this. I don’t know who is affected, but definitely at my workplace and as I connect with other folks here and there I am starting to wonder about things. There’s always a possibility that it’s just me (actually, in some ways I hope it is), but there’s a feeling in the air that I am hard-pressed to accurately name. Perhaps I’ll get to it before I’m done writing this evening.
In the midst of this fog of yuckiness (very descriptive term), I am reaching for gratitude from deep within me. At my core, all is still, calm, and serene, and in those moments when I can manage to tap into it, my inner self and my outer self align in a space where I cannot be flapped by the wild winds that are blowing all around me but stand graceful and strong in the midst of them. I don’t touch it very often, but the beauty is that I know it’s there. That is a deep comfort to me. It is hard to describe this phenomenon, because it seems a bit contradictory. On days like today I struggle to maintain a sense of emotional equanimity: the impact of unsettled conditions at work, the weight of decisions I’m facing, and the effects of all that’s happening in the area, across the country, around the world certainly take their toll on my psyche.
But in the midst of all of that I still smile as I watch the squirrels in my front yard chomping on acorns and chasing each other up and down trees. As I walk through the door after an exhausting day at work I often take several minutes to play ball outside with Honor and scratch her belly when she flops down and flips onto her back. I laugh at some of the ridiculous videos that people post on Facebook. I enjoy simple blessings: the beauty of the natural world around me, the warmth in a friend’s smile, a really good cup of coffee, so many things that can be brief and fleeting, but beautiful nonetheless. I am buoyed by the love and support of family, the awareness of my own inner strength, courage, and capacity to love, and the practice of gratitude that continues to ground me in awareness that no matter how “terrible, awful, no good, really bad” my day might feel, all is well and all shall be well. This is not some “fake it til you make it,” positive psychology, feel-good strategy (though there’s nothing wrong with those). This is simple fact.
So yeah, I had a lumpy, bumpy kind of day. But at the end of it I can still smile and remember what was good in it. That is a gift I will not take for granted. It really does keep on giving. And for that capacity, I am most exceedingly grateful.
